


In Memoriam

by aspecialsomeone



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Drabble, F/M, Family Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-25
Updated: 2015-02-25
Packaged: 2018-03-15 01:36:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3433172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aspecialsomeone/pseuds/aspecialsomeone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"It’s okay, Eggsy," his wife says that day, cradling their newborn baby. "I know what you want to name him."</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Memoriam

It’s been fifteen years now since he’s saved the world, and the time in Kingsman has been since kind to him.

Eggsy looks in the bedroom’s dresser’s mirror and sees the reflection of someone he once knew: tilted ebony glasses, clad in a navy-striped suit, hair carved into dirty golden curves—he remembers the name, but slowly forgets the face. They never really took any pictures together, had the chance to, anyway. But the reflection is just fine for his memories, he thinks, and sometimes fools himself into believing he is still here, somewhere, proud of him.

Eggsy—Galahad—is older now. Wiser. Matured. The best of the Kingsman. Eggsy lost his rough street accent a long time ago and talks in the suave way _he_ used to.

Eggsy hears Merlin on the other side of the line, gruff, calling his name and saying something about a conference with the American branch. He hums in affirmation as he straightens his tie, pulls on the cuffs of his collared shirt as it smoothes the sleeves under the suit, and calls to his wife downstairs that he is leaving for “work”.

He always makes sure that his Kingsman medal is still around his neck when he leaves, tucked underneath his clothing.

He withdraws from his bedroom and heads into the adjacent one across the hall. As he cracks open the door, he smiles warmly at the young boy who is playing Cops and Robbers with the pug with a water gun.

Eggsy ruffles the little boy’s head, fingers lacing through similar blonde curls.

“How was school today, Harry?”


End file.
